


Numbers

by Darkestwolfx



Series: March Prompt a Day 2020 [18]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Academic, Gen, Homework, School, genius, maths - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkestwolfx/pseuds/Darkestwolfx
Summary: Gordon had a passionate hatred for numbers and figures.
Series: March Prompt a Day 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660813
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Numbers

**Author's Note:**

> I had a few ideas when I first read this one, but I thought I wanted to go with something I don't usually write – not for want of inspiration, but more logistics from the show side of things.
> 
> You can play around with the ages in your head as I haven't specified, but we're talking school ages, kind of before International Rescue. I'm thinking of using this in my Young Tracy's series too, so hair colours etc at in TOS form for this one.
> 
> Longest one yet I think too.

**18: Numbers**

Summary: Gordon had a passionate hatred for numbers and figures.

Words: 2199

Spoilers: None.

* * *

There were people in the world who could achieve great things with numbers. Mathematicians who came up with great problems and solutions and played around with numbers like a baby did toys and a rattle.

There were also people in the world who could achieve great things without numbers. Like artists and athletes and circus performers and… heck, what did it matter? You didn't often hear about people like that, people who struggled with numbers like a baby did walking.

Being a child was hard enough without being a brother.

Being a brother was hard enough without being one of the younger ones.

Being a younger brother was hard enough without having older brothers who could do what you could not.

Gordon was slightly glad to no longer be the youngest, yes. But it still remained that he had three older brothers and those brothers were far more academic than he.

Virgil – lucky bug – could maintain a good average _and_ be artistic, the perfect combination of both who was strong and yet delicate, smart and yet creative. Had the middle child just been creative, his teachers wouldn't have been half as kind, but because he was _both_ it was like summer come early, all bright smiles and praise.

Scott – for all he was the eldest – was not the smartest, though he didn't like to hear it. But the point remained that he was capable of trudging on through, enough that he would be able to join the Air Force just like their Father had. The eldest wasn't the best with numbers on paper, but he was good at crunching any needed for flight. Pilot mode, as Gordon referred to it.

John – for all Gordon loved him, _really loved him_ – was a pain in the ass. He didn't try to be, he never asked to be, but the blonde was inexplicably gifted. And really that should be plural, but Gordon was sure gifted didn't have one of those. No, John was good with words, he was excellent at science (all of them, but physics especially) and he was an absolute wizard with numbers. The red head envied the speed with which his big brother could do his maths homework like it was merely colour by numbers.

It was unfair that all of his brothers were academics, and had set a pretty good record for it at school, raising the bar high, high, high into the sky for him, but it was another thing for John to be a genius.

Virgil had been lucky to be a culmination of smart and creative coming after John, because it made him look somewhat extremely talented too – which Gordon would agree, his direct elder was a master with any medium of art, including the musical kind.

He on the other hand, was not so lucky. He was c**p with words, f***ed with science, and s**t with manipulating numbers. And it was good that he said none of that rant aloud for Dad would absolutely rip in apart for the language, and Scott might have a go to is he was hovering around. It wasn't language Gordon would normally use either even though everyone at school, especially in his year, were at the point where bad language like that was cool. No, Alan wasn't even the reason why he wouldn't use it. They'd always been a family with little need for it, but right now… right now whilst he was pulling his hair out (which, he'd have anyone know was one of his best features) over the bloody, damn nonsensical numbers before him, knowing he couldn't do anything else until his homework – which why did it have to include math! – was done, he didn't care. It was acceptable to use whatever language he so pleased. He'd been here, elbows on his desk and hands in his hair for hours, gritting his teeth and stabbing his pencil into the paper, but the answers were always wrong or the method never came to him- and long story short, he just couldn't do it.

He was so tempted to chuck his pencil across the room, but he'd already snapped one with his anger.

There was a knock at the door. _Oh damn!_ He was tempted to just send whoever it was away.

"What?" He'd hoped his tone would be deterrent enough.

"Not a good time?"

"No."

Of all the brothers it could have been.

"Scott's watching the football. Virgil too."

"Goody for them."

"They wanted to know if you want to join. We're having ice cream."

"Lovely. _Off_ you go."

John was silent for a moment.

"So, I'll take it that's a no then."

"Yes. Go."

But by the sound of it, John didn't 'go' in the direction Gordon had intended, for within moments of careful, quiet footsteps, his brother was stood beside him.

"Oh, you're multiplying polynominals."

"So that's what they're called."

He'd honestly forgotten.

John seemed to be looking between him and the paper, full of erased scribbles and large indents from his eventual anger.

"I thought you only had a couple bits of homework to do?"

"And I'm doing it."

"No, I just meant… well, usually you'd be done by now and joining us for ice cream."

"Well I'm not done so even if I want to I can't. House rule. You know that."

"I do." Gordon felt a little bad. He was being snappy and he knew it. And John didn't deserve that just because he was a genius and the younger wasn't. He decided he should probably keep his mouth shut so as not to do any more unnecessary snapping. "Right. I'll just uh, leave you to finish it then…"

"Yeah, off you go and have some ice cream on me."

He thought John might have actually gone. Scott didn't have the same level of stealth as the second son, so it would have been far easier to tell. But no, the elder's quiet nature had done Gordon no favours.

"Gordon, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Something is because you're snapping. And being sarcastic – you don't really want me to eat ice cream for you."

"No, I don't! I want to watch the football – not because I like football, but because you're all down there and you're eating ice cream and I'm stuck up here with poly what's it called."

"Polynominals."

"Yeah, yeah those."

John walked back over, standing beside him with no awareness to how annoyed his very presence was currently making the copper haired boy. _It's not his fault,_ he reminded himself. He never asked to be born a genius.

"The answer to question one is 8x2-50x+63."

"How?" He finally, finally snapped, throwing his pencil – unintentionally – onto the floor – he'd been aiming for the desk. _Damn._ "How do you do that, in your head as well! That's not fair."

"Gordon, I learnt these years ago, y-"

"It's still not fair! I've been looking at these for an hour!"

"You should have as-"

"I hate numbers! Why can't we have mandatory swimming."

John… chuckled. And the first thing which came to mind was _why?_ Honestly, Gordon was baffled.

_I've just shouted at him, and he's laughing?_

He knew John was good at staying calm, but this was almost crazy.

"If they did that, I really wouldn't be any good. You'd have the best grades."

"Yeah. I would."

"Here."

John held out his pencil to him, Gordon never having seen him moved to retrieve it. He took it with a quiet 'thanks'. He still wasn't quite sure how he should feel. His brother was jesting with him like the whole shouting match - or rather, _at_ , since John's voice never rose, not even once – never happened.

"You need to multiply each number by the other numbers in the brackets and then you add and subtract accordingly."

"What?"

"The polynominals you- Sorry. I'll leave you to it."

"No, no, no!" John halted almost abruptly. Gordon realised he'd been shouting, again, and made a deliberate effort to lower his voice. "Can you… can you say again?"

The blonde nodded and made his way back over.

"Do four times two and four times nine, then do seven times two and seven times nine." He made an effort to scribble whilst the elder spoke, his hand moving faster than it did usually, even in class. "Remember if there's x's to times, you have to include them in the answer. So if you times two x's together you get x squared, like if you four times four."

"Ok, ok. Then?"

"Add or subtract it all, and rewrite it in it's final form without the brackets."

"Right, ok. Um… like that?"

John glanced over his shoulder once more, green eyes studying his messy scrawl, made harder to read by the past attempts strewn like ghosts over the paper.

"Yes, but it's plus sixty-three." He frowned, returning his gaze to the paper to look for the reason _why_. "You times two negatives."

"Oh yeah!" He quickly made the correction, rubbing furiously to get rid of the blasted additional line, hovering even still from al his previous endeavours. "Like that."

"Mmm hmm."

"Ok… oh, did you want to be watching the football."

John all but frowned at him. "I hate football. You know I only watch if Scott's playing. I've got a book waiting for me."

"Sorry to keep you."

"I like math, so it's ok."

He nodded, not really sure what else he should do. He never meant to (inadvertently) ask for John's help, although he couldn't deny he was glad to have it, but now his problem lay in how to keep it. Part of him knew asking would be ok and the other was still torn about whether he even _wanted_ to. He was prideful, for all that he wasn't good at math. He didn't want to appear stupid, least of all to his genius brother. But then again, he didn't want to appear stupid to his class either. He'd unluckily ended up with the same maths teacher all his older brothers had had, so there was no luck there, but he intended to keep the rest fooled.

"Do you want to do the rest?"

"Rest..?"

"Of the questions. I can't do them all for you."

"No. Mrs R would probably know." He jested, trying to lighten the mood which seemed to have descended, and he was overly aware that such was his fault for having shouted.

"Probably." John agreed. "I think the handwriting would give it away."

Yes, because John was even gifted with being able to write nice and neatly, just like Virgil. At least Scott's writing was also abysmal, although maybe not quite so much as his.

"I was thinking more about the math."

"But you can do it."

"You told me what to do."

"So just repeat exactly that."

"But I can't even remember what I did, you- you were talking me through it."

"Gordon, does someone talk you through how to do… butterfly stroke?"

"Uh, no!"

"Exactly. And you do it fine."

"I'll have you know I do better than fine. But that's something I'm good at. I've done it for ages."

"But that's the point. Someone talked you through that when you first learnt, but you don't need that anymore. Same thing with math." He let his eyebrows raise of their own accord. John took an answer from that, as expected. "You'll get there."

"Yeah… No. Well, maybe, but not tonight I don't think, and I'd _really_ like some ice cream."

"Me too." John smiled, and that was kind of infectious because Gordon found himself smiling too. "So, question two?"

The blonde reached out and pulled over Gordon's old bean bag. He preferred to sit on that than a chair after swimming. His brother dropped down beside him and reclined quite happily from what Gordon could see.

"I'll just sit here and wait until you need me."

And he did smile this time, of his own free will.

"Ok."

Part of him was very pleased that he hadn't had to ask: the other part was very aware that John had probably gathered he wanted-but-didn't-want to ask for help and thus had offered.

He had some very good brother's looking out for him, indeed. It just helped when they were a genius.

"Right, question two has stuff outside the brackets, what do I..?"

"Same thing, but only times everything in the brackets by the number outside."

"So, I'm doing five sevens, five fours, and five twos?"

"Yeah. And add in the x's."

"But that one's going to give four x's… Is that right, is that possible?"

"Yeah, just put a little four instead of a two."

"So… like that."

"Yeah."

"Ok, ok, I've got this."

"You do."

"Ice cream here we come!"

John chuckled again and Gordon felt a little better as he powered onto question three. There were fifteen of them, but with his genius brother at his side, he was sure he'd be ok getting through them.

He wasn't the best with numbers, but if the world flooded tomorrow, he'd be ok to stay afloat; and until such a time he could best the numerals, he had John to act as his raft.


End file.
